


Practice

by Ehtar



Category: Avengers Academy (Video Game)
Genre: Accidental kidnapping, Developing Relationship, Dubious Consent, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, FrostIron - Freeform, M/M, Magical Accidents, Oblivious Tony Stark, Pining Loki (Marvel), Wordcount: 10.000-30.000
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-13
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:15:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23129149
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ehtar/pseuds/Ehtar
Summary: Loki was practicing his magic on campus, and something went wrong. Now Tony is missing nearly a week out of his memory, and Loki refuses to even talk to him about what happened.(Dub-con tag related to the accidental kidnapping tag, not anything else.)
Relationships: Loki/Tony Stark
Comments: 20
Kudos: 147





	Practice

**Author's Note:**

> I'm alive! Been going through some pretty nasty burnout for the last... long time. This is something I wrote a long time ago and finally got enough energy to edit. ^^;;
> 
> In other news, I still miss this game. 💔

“Tony. Hey! You in there?”

“That’s not a good question, no matter the context.” The response came out groggily, distantly, and it took Tony a second to realize that _he_ was the one who said it.

“Well, _I’m_ convinced it’s him.”

“Yes, but you were convinced it was him _before_.”

“Yeah, well… Who knew Loki could do such a good impression of Tony?”

“ _I_ could have told you. They’re so alike sometimes it’s sickening.”

“Aye! And what is more, my brother is a master of impersonation as well as pranks! And this has been a well-executed joke, indeed!”

Tony wasn’t sure where he was or what was going on, and when he tried to open his eyes the brightness on the other side of his lids had him slamming them shut again.

Well. Given his confusion, light sensitivity and the headache which was slowly making itself known, he was tempted to say that he’d had too much to drink and was waking up with a hangover. It might also explain the many voices around him. If he’d made enough of an ass of himself while drunk or passed out in an amusing enough position, then a crowd could be expected.

But he didn’t have any of the other symptoms of a hangover. No sour stomach, no aftertaste of dirty socks, no vague sensation of being on a tilt-a-whirl. He didn’t even have the not-quite-as-vague memories of _starting_ an evening drinking. He could usually remember that much. But no, the last thing he could remember… he’d been sitting in his dorm, tinkering with some new idea for a fidget toy - because why not? - and wondering what some of the others were up to. He’d been bored and wanted company, so he’d gone through the list, figuring as best he could where everyone would be and who would be most receptive to him dropping in. He’d decided on… Loki, he thought, guessing that he would be doing much the same as Tony at the time: not much.

He’d settled on his choice, started to put away his project, and then… waking up to voices around him. _Loud_ voices, some of them, which was _not_ helping his headache. Gods, Thor and Wasp really _were_ made for each other.

“Hey,” he said, raising up a hand without opening his eyes. “Anyone mind filling me in on what’s going on? Am I going to open my eyes and find a tattoo on me somewhere? Or a wedding ring?”

The silence which followed his suggestions was not comforting.

“He wouldn’t have done that, would he?” That sounded like Cap.

“Nay.” No mistaking Thor. “Had he wished such an arrangement, I believe he would have made it a production of the ages.”

That was… a little better. Though the phrasing made him think the ‘he’ Thor meant _wasn’t_ him.

“Guys? C’mon, context for the comatose, here.”

“You’ve been a little out of it, Tony,” said a voice which could only be Pepper. Tony relaxed slightly. It was comforting to know there was _someone_ nearby who was sensible. _He_ certainly didn’t count. “More than a little, actually. Some sort of mishap.” Someone snorted, but Pep ignored it. “We’re just not sure how long you’ve been out. What’s the last thing you remember?”

“Dicking around in the dorm communal area.”

“Well, _that_ narrows it down,” someone commented. Natasha, he thought.

“What day of the week was it, Tony?”

“Uh.” He thought for a second. “Wednesday.”

He expected the pause which followed, and decided to use the silence to work on opening his eyes. The headache made it harder than it should have been, but it wasn’t too bad if he went slow. He just had to squint into the glare.

“It’s not as bad as it could have been,” said a blur with Sam’s voice.

“Assuming we’re talking about _last_ Wednesday,” agreed a Natasha blur somewhat dubiously.

“It’s not likely to have been much longer than a couple of days,” Pep said.

Tony scowled into the glare. He doubted anyone noticed the difference. “Alright, I’m starting to think I went on a major bender and just slept through most of the hangover – which, cool if that’s what happened. Or that there was another explosion in Pym’s lab and I’ve been unconscious for a week.” Visuals were slowly beginning to clear, and he looked from one fuzzy face to another. There were a lot of them gathered. “You gonna keep making me guess or is someone actually going to _tell_ me what’s going on?”

A quick glance shared between everyone seemed to appoint Pepper as the one to explain. “It’s Sunday, Tony. You’ve been acting a little strange over the last few days, but since it was you, none of us thought much of –“

“Thanks.”

“—until your weekend plans came up and they were… really off. We got to talking about it with each other, and when we decided to come and check on you, we found you under some sort of mind control.”

“At first we thought it was Enchantress,” Janet put in brightly. “What with her love of hoo-doo and brain scrambling.”

“ _Please_.” The owner of the voice was out of sight, but there was no mistaking either the voice or the disdainful tone. “As though I would take over such a brain and then _not_ do anything with it for five days. What a waste!”

“Yes, well. It took some time and some work, but we tracked down the one who was doing it and got them to let you go.”

“Loki.”

“Ha!” Janet jumped up, then pointed at Natasha. “I _told_ you it was obvious and we didn’t need to dig up twenty conspiracies to figure it out!”

The spy just rolled her eyes without responding.

The light wasn’t so bad now, or at least the headache had retreated to a dull throb rather than a railroad spike as he tried to keep his eyes open.

“Alright, so… Loki had me under mind control for five days. And no one noticed. Doesn’t sound like it could have been that bad, in that case. What did I do? And…” he squinted around. He was laid out on a table – the dorms again? It was hard to tell – with everyone arranged around, though quite a few seemed to be losing interest in the proceedings now that he was awake. There was someone who was very conspicuous by their absence, however. “Where _is_ Lokes?”

“He is outside,” Thor said. “Mjölnir is keeping watch of him.”

A new voice piped up from the side, close to the windows. “He’s still there, too. Doesn’t look as though he’s even _tried_ to get away.” Barbara looked vaguely put out about that. “Mostly it looks like he’s pouting.”

Well, that did sound like Loki…

“As for what you’ve been doing the last five days…” Natasha exchanged a look with Pepper, who shrugged, letting her explain. “Not much. Going to classes, tinkering, flirting – though a little less annoyingly on that front, now that I think about it.”

Sam snickered. “Looks like you should be getting advice from Loki on how to improve your game, Tony.”

“Very funny.” Tony risked sitting up. It wasn’t nearly as bad as he’d been expecting. In fact sitting up seemed to be doing his head more good than being laid out flat on his back. The world cleared up a bit more, the light became less piercing, and the stabbing at his temples subsided a little. “So no world domination plans with me fronting as a meat puppet. Cool. Did he score me a date, at least?”

“Nice priorities, Tony.”

He tilted, trying to get a view of the outside where Loki supposedly was, being ‘watched’ by Thor’s hammer. He thought he could see a distant smudge lying out on the Quad. “A mishap, huh? We know what kind?”

Pepper shook her head. “No. And when we asked him to explain, he refused to say anything. Other than to say that it was none of our business.”

“I think he was embarrassed to have made a mistake with his magic,” Natasha shrugged. “He certainly _looked_ embarrassed.”

“My brother takes great pride in his skills. Any such mistakes, especially ones so clear as this has been, would lower him.”

There were nods all around the room, everyone very familiar with Loki’s pride and what was most likely to prick it. Everyone except Janet, who was wearing a small smirk. When she caught Tony looking at her, she raised her brows and tilted her head towards the window. It was obviously meant as some sort of subtle message, but all he got was the most obvious one.

“I’d like to talk to my brain co-pilot.”

It got him a couple of incredulous looks. “Are you sure?” Barbara beat everyone else to the question. “We just got the maniac _out_ of your head, and you want to put your brain back within grabbing distance?”

Tony rolled his eyes. “I doubt distance has much to do with what Lokes can and can’t do. And no, I’m not worried. What, you think he’s going to be predictable and give a repeat performance now that everyone knows the trick?”

No one could come up with a good argument for that, so Tony was ‘allowed’ to leave the dorm to see Loki up close. Getting them all to stay behind so he could chat with the mage alone was a little trickier to pull off. It wouldn’t be an _entirely_ private chat, since every one of them would still be watching – and listening – at a distance, but not having everyone hovering over his shoulders shoulder count for something.

Loki was flat on his back, half on the concrete walkway and half on the green, with Mjölnir sitting on his chest. It was one of Thor’s favorite pranks, to leave his hammer places which were incredibly inconvenient for people who couldn’t budge the thing – i.e., anyone but him. It seemed a little mean to use it to pin someone down, but it also seemed to be very _effective_ in keeping Loki in place. And it didn’t seem to be doing him any physical harm, at least. Just bruising his ego.

Loki watched him approach with what looked like indifference, but Tony could see the tiny bit of tension about his mouth. And there was the way he locked his eyes on Tony. It was a little hard to keep up the usual swagger when being watched like that, even if it was coming from the level of his feet. If anything, it actually made it even more awkward. As did the sensation of so many eyes at his back, come to think of it.

“Hey, Lokes.”

All that changed in Loki’s expression was a raised brow. He kept his lips pressed together, silent and watchful. Tony didn’t think he’d ever felt so hollowed out by a simple stare in his life.

There were a couple of ways he could play this. The tempting default was to go snarky and sarcastic. It was something of a defensive mechanism for him, but it would automatically put Loki in the exact same frame of mind. They were alike enough that Tony could predict that with a level of certainty, and he didn’t want Loki feeling cornered and defensive. The same would be true if he went in the way he was sure a lot of those watching them wanted him to – which would be full agro. Interrogation mode.

Neither felt right, neither would get him what he wanted, which was just to know what had happened, and why.

Tony was curious, not angry. No harm, no foul, and from the looks of things, no harm had been done. They’d built up enough of a rapport since coming to the Academy for him to extend a little bit of the benefit of the doubt. He’d actually begun to just think of them as friends, weird as that might seem to anyone else. They could talk together for hours, going back and forth between snark, serious and hilarious storytelling. Tony was _comfortable_ when he was around Loki, and from the way the Asgardian looked and behaved around him compared to anyone else on campus, he was comfortable around Tony as well.

It wasn’t something he could get really say about a lot of the people he hung out with – that he was really comfortable around them. There was always some sort of shield, a barrier between them and Tony, a way of keeping just a little bit of distance, a little bit of safety. And it wasn’t as though that distance didn’t exist at all with Loki… but it did feel like there was less. Sure, he’d been pranked by the trickster, and led astray, and tattled on… but that was just Loki’s way, same as Tony’s flippant sarcasm. They understood that about each other, and that by itself made them closer to each other than perhaps a lot of the other students around campus.

In the end, he just sat down cross-legged on the sidewalk near Loki’s head. He thought about lying down completely so they’d be eye to eye, but that seemed even more awkward. Green eyes watched him, but Loki’s expression remained wooden. 

“Just to get it out of the way,” he said, settling into place, “I don’t remember anything of the last five days. Last thing I remember, I was bored in the dorm and thinking of dropping in on you to cook up some fun, and then suddenly I’m surrounded by a gaggle of teenagers.”

There might have been a flicker in Loki’s expression, a here-and-gone frown as his eyes quickly searched Tony’s face. Looking for the deception, he suspected, searching for any sign that Tony was trying to trick him. It was a stereotype, that those who always told lies expected everyone around them to do the same. From what Tony had been able to piece together, Loki had more than one reason to suspect everyone around them.

“I also don’t think you were up to anything particularly nefarious.” It got Loki to snap his eyes back to Tony. “According to everyone else, I was acting more or less normally, and the only real thing I can see you brain controlling me for would be to make me act even more like an ass than usual to embarrass me. A tall order, I know,” he added, “but I think you’d be up to the challenge.”

There was still no real response from Lokes, so Tony leaned forward, one hand wandering off to pluck up grass absently. “There’s always the chance you were doing something or planning on doing something nefarious with me out of sight of everyone else, but that doesn’t scan, exactly. Five days is more than enough time if you’d had anything in mind, and unless it were something really nasty like murder I’m pretty sure you’re aware you’d have my cooperation even without the brain control.” He glanced up from his grass plucking. Loki still wore a stony expression, but for some reason it now sported a faint blush. Out of self-preservation and the hope of getting _some_ sort of response out of him, Tony decided to ignore it.

“So… yeah,” Tony shrugged. “I buy that it was a screw up, a ‘mishap,’ and I just got caught up because of bad luck. I’m just curious how it happened. And what happened during those five days, I guess.”

Silence dragged on. Tony waited, not looking away, for Loki to respond. But Loki could be really good at holding his tongue, as well as twisting it round in ways that suited his agenda. Still, as entire minutes ticked away, Tony decided this wasn’t a game he was willing to play.

“C’mon, Lokes,” he wheedled, using the tone he knew would either earn him an eye roll or something lobbed at his head any other time. “I don’t care if it was because of something stupid, like getting distracted by your phone going off or something. No judgement. Remember when I forgot I’d put a prototype in the microwave, the size hole that made in the wall? There can’t be anything which’ll come across dumber than anything _I’ve_ already done. I don’t even care what sort of weird stuff you might have done while I was checked out of my skull, okay? Just curious.”

Loki dropped his gaze, looking away from Tony’s face. While Tony couldn’t say that his expression had really _changed_ , the shift of his eyes made him look almost… ashamed?

“Hey, Lokes…” He reached out, meaning to put a hand on Loki’s shoulder, but his hand passed right through, fingers grazing the concrete beneath.

Tony’s mind blanked for a second, fuzzing before he began to understand what had happened. In those few seconds, Loki – an illusory Loki – looked back up at Tony, gave him a sad smile… and disappeared.

He was left staring at Mjölnir, listening as those watching behind him in the dorm erupted into angry shouts.

He sighed.

—•—

It wasn’t as though Loki had _completely_ disappeared, though, no matter what the campus’ conspiracy theorists might think. No one could track him down that first day, but there were plenty of sightings the next day, though no one got close enough to talk to him. Tony wasn’t about to blame him for his discretion, considering what sort of position he’d been in when Tony had woken up. Being pinned to the Quad lawn by Thor’s hammer would be enough to get anyone to go stealth mode for a while. Tony was just going by hearsay, though. _He_ had yet to see him at all since he’d disappeared, the Asgardian apparently going out of his way to avoid him.

If he’d been angry he would have appreciated it. As it was, it was just annoying.

At least everyone else seemed to have calmed down, or _was_ calming down about the whole thing. Loki hadn’t pulled a complete disappearing act, and it would have been hard to maintain the same level of outrage some of them had started with when the ‘victim’ of the whole debacle was remaining blasé about it all. The fact that he _was_ blasé and not at all concerned about what Loki was supposedly ‘up to’ was one everyone on campus was well aware of.

As they should be after the several hours of informal interrogation on the subject.

All in all, Tony was tired. He wasn’t entirely certain what Loki’s problem was, but it seemed clear he was going to make ever having a conversation a chore, and screw that. Two could play at being standoffish.

Days passed, then a week, and still not a word out of the stuck up mage, nor ever a sighting of him on Tony’s part. Loki seemed determined to avoid him completely, shirking classes, training, even the socializing he’d been known to indulge in, such as hanging out at Club A or being snarky in the dorm common room. Tony was actually beginning to wonder if he would ever _see_ the bastard around the campus again, or if he would just have to go on being reassured by others that, yes, he _was_ still there, they promised. Or maybe, if Loki’s need to avoid Tony got extreme enough, he would drop his cooperative ‘team’ attitude and leave the Academy entirely. Tony was fairly certain he was still banished from Asgard, but that wouldn’t necessarily stop him from going anywhere else.

Would his weird aversion to Tony be strong enough to drive him that far? Surely there was nothing which could have happened in a few days to warrant _that_ much of a reaction?

He almost missed it when Loki finally came back. To be fair, he was pretty sure nearly everyone missed it, and that Loki had planned it that way.

Tony had actually been in class, bored out of his mind because there was very little which the Academy ever taught that he didn’t already know, made major contributions to himself or simply had no interest in. No one seemed to think that last one constituted a good enough excuse to not pay attention, but they couldn’t really say too much when he aced even those classes. It was pretty rare that there was ever anything presented which kept him engaged, and this was not one of those times. So he’d let his attention wander, not really thinking of much, leaning back in his seat and his eye roving about for something, _anything_ interesting.

And he’d spotted Loki for the first time in over a week. Sitting at his desk, books dutifully on his desk but unopened, looking just as bored as Tony felt.

Tony stared. He blinked, rubbing at his eyes, certain he must have been lulled to sleep by the pointless droning he was meant to be listening to. Loki remained, however, looking just as casual and put out for having to attend classes as he ever did, and totally _not_ like he’d been pointedly avoiding Tony for a week. The putz wasn’t even deigning to glance at him, and that was just _rude_.

Somehow the sight of Loki, sitting calm as you please in class, as though nothing at all had happened, made all of Tony’s previous apathy evaporate. All of a sudden he cared _very much_ about what had happened during his brief stint as a brainwashed goon, the circumstances surrounding it, and more to the point, what the hell Loki’s deal was.

He was contemplating getting up in the middle of the lecture and stomping his way over to the Asgardian, just demanding to know in front of everyone where he had been and _why_ he was refusing to see or speak with Tony. He’d just about decided to do exactly that and damn the cliché soap opera tropes – when he was hit with a dry board eraser.

“Stark, since you’re with us today, could you at least _pretend_ to pay attention?”

Reluctantly, as though taking his eyes off of him would mean Loki would disappear again, Tony turned round in his chair to face the front.

Even a teacher shouting at him hadn’t convinced Loki to look _at_ him, the jerk.

For the rest of the class Tony concentrated fiercely on what the lesson was – or at least gave a good impression of it. He straightened in his seat and kept his eyes forward, refusing to look at Loki or anyone else who might be reacting to his reappearance. He spent so much of his concentration on _not_ paying attention to Loki that he actually absorbed less of the lesson than he had been doing before. And it wasn’t as though he were completely able to _not_ think of him. The entire time he sat at his seat he was running though all of the questions he would lob the mage’s way; which ones he ought to start with, and just how much volume he would be using when he asked them.

He wasn’t mad over the brain washing, he told himself. It was the silent treatment which was annoying the hell out of him.

As soon as the class ended, Tony was out of his seat and turned around – just in time to catch a dissipating glimmer of green. Loki had transported himself away the same instant Tony had stood up.

“Goddammit!”

The outburst got him a few looks. The majority were amused, but there were a few sympathetic expressions in there as well. He wasn’t sure which of the two he preferred, really, or which annoyed him more.

Frustrated, Tony packed up his things, shoving his tablet and books into his bag without much care. He didn’t notice that any of the milling students were stepping near him until a hand rested on his shoulder.

“Hey.” Apparently Janet was one of the ones who had gone the route of sympathy, but at least her face didn’t have any pity in it. “I wouldn’t worry about it too much, Tony. Thor says he gets like this sometimes, and the best thing is to just let him calm down on his own.”

Tony blinked at her, a little surprised. Though maybe he shouldn’t be. Janet was his best friend at this ‘school,’ as well as being a shameless busybody. Of course she would have noticed he was distracted, and even if he never said anything to her directly. And she was savvy enough to figure out _why_ he was distressed. How long had it been since he’d taken a peek at any social media? Surely JARVIS would have piped up if there had been anything particularly relevant to him, right?

“Yeah,” Sam agreed, joining in before Tony could think of a good reply. “Guy’s like a cat. He’s got his fur up; you try and lay it back down for him he’s just going to hiss at you for the favor.”

Janet raised an eyebrow at the analogy. “I’m… not sure that’s entirely right, _but_ ,” she grabbed one of Tony’s hands, turning one of her more earnest expressions on him. “I _know_ Loki isn’t as cold as he seems! He’s just a little uncertain at the moment. Just give him some space and he’ll be right back by your side in no time!”

Tony looked between the two of them, bewildered. “You know it’s not like we were attached at the hip, right? Besides, what does _he_ have to feel ruffled about? It’s not like _he’s_ the one with the week long gap in his memory, and the one guy who could really fill him in on it all refusing to even look at him!”

By the time Tony finished he was nearly shouting. Just like when he’d seen Loki sitting behind him, the annoyance and, yes, fine, the _anger_ rose up all at once, taking him by surprise. It took Janet and Sam by surprise, too. They glanced at each other, and apparently in that glance they were able to communicate quite a lot, because the next moment they were on either side of him, each taking hold of an elbow.

“Hey, what--!”

“C’mon, Tony, let’s get a coffee,” Janet said, proving just how strong she was as she began marching to the door. “I think maybe Loki isn’t the only one who needs some outside feedback.”

“No kidding,” Sam agreed, killing any hope Tony might have had on reprieve from that direction. “Some feedback and a good hard knock to the head for the both of you, I think.”

Caught between them, Tony accepted his fate and let himself be dragged bodily from the school.

While there were no actual cafes on the campus, there _were_ plenty of coffee stands, and everyone had their favorite. There was little enough difference between them, so preferences came down mostly to who happened to be working them, either because of how well they made the drinks or how nice they were to look at. In Janet and Tony’s case, they’d each found that _every_ stand was their favorite. It made getting coffee a lot easier when there was no reason to hike to the other end of campus for it.

Janet handed him his cup, having ordered his regular for him without checking to make sure she remembered it properly. Tony wasn’t sure he’d be able to order hers’ from memory quite so confidently. It would probably take him a try or two. Mostly he just remembered there was enough sugar and syrup to technically classify it as liquid candy. One of these days he’d get around to asking her if she was sure ‘Wasp’ was really appropriate, or if she would be better off as, say, ‘Hummingbird.’ He’d put off asking so far because he was pretty sure it would earn him a bruise.

“Alright,” Janet said, and then stopped. They’d wandered over to a relatively private bench to sit down, Tony with an abductor on either side of him the whole time. Now, rather than launching into a speech or a set of reprimands, Janet was staring at her coffee, working the lid distractedly with her nails.

“So I need to apologize,” she got out in a rush. “It’s been a week, and I haven’t come round to check in with you or anything. I was hoping you would come to me,” she added with a small glare, finally looking up from the coffee lid, “but I should have known better than to depend on it. After like, the third day I should have broken your door down with bestie support, whether you wanted it or not. But I didn’t,” she deflated a little. “So… I’m sorry.”

Tony blinked, a little lost. “Um. That’s okay? I forgive you for not breaking my door down.”

Sam nudged him on the other side. “Same goes for me, man. I mean, I probably wouldn’t have broken down your door, but I could tell you were having a rough time of it. I should’ve been there sooner with the, uh, ‘bestie support’ as well.”

Tony looked back and forth between the two, then sighed. “You know, not that I don’t appreciate all the love and caring, but what is this? I mean, yeah, I’m upset that his high and mighty greenness is avoiding me, but you two are acting like I just had a messy breakup or something. And I’ll have you know that Lokes and I never even made it to first base,” he added flippantly, to highlight how ridiculous it all seemed to him.

He took a long sip of his drink, and so missed the quick, silent exchange of gestures and facial expressions Janet and Sam exchanged. If he hadn’t, he probably would have been less confused – but more embarrassed.

“Right, well…” Janet waved her cup. “It’s pretty obvious to everyone that you’ve had a falling out of _some_ kind, and that you’re both upset by it.”

Tony wasn’t quite able to keep the scowl off of his face when he replied. “ _Both_ of us, huh? You sure he’s upset about the same thing and not just being his usual edgester self? Did you try the whole ‘bestie support’ thing on him, too?”

“I did, as a matter of fact,” Janet snapped. Tony clamped his jaw, realizing how petulant and accusatory he’d sounded, but Janet was going on before he could apologize.

“I was worried a little more about him, since he was holing up and not seeing anybody. I wanted to make sure he was okay, and maybe poke at him for not talking to you… but he wouldn’t let me anywhere near him. Every time I got close he either teleported away or put up a force field. And believe me,” she scowled, “I _tried_.”

Tony could well imagine that. When Janet got an idea in her head, when she was determined to do something, it would take a force of nature or a damned army to stop her. It was no wonder Loki had decided to opt out of the situation entirely.

Sam nudged his other side. “Point is, you’re not the only one who’s upset, and even though I personally think you have much better reason to be upset, rushing headlong at your guy when you see him probably isn’t the best strategy.”

He blinked at the term ‘your guy,’ but… he could see where the advice was pretty much spot on. After avoiding any sort of contact for over a week, it would make sense that Loki would hightail it when he saw Tony charging at him at the first opportunity. But really, what did he expect, for Tony to just pretend like nothing had happened at all? 

“What I don’t get is what _he’s_ so upset about.” Tony popped open the lid of his coffee so he could stare down into the foam. “It’s not like it was _his_ brain that got tampered with, not _his_ calendar which has a week missing out of it. Why would _he_ be upset with _me?_ ”

Sam shrugged. “I dunno. But to be fair, I don’t think he’s really upset at _you_. If I had to guess, I’d say that the guy is just sulking that he got found out and caught so easily.”

“That certainly doesn’t help,” Janet agreed. “But… I dunno, I think there’s more to it than that.” She bit her lip, staring off into the distance, towards the Maverick Dorm where Loki roomed. “I’ve hung out with Loki enough to know that he can be hard to read. Even Thor says he sometimes doesn’t understand Loki, and they’ve known each other for centuries. But… I don’t think he’s as hard to figure out as he wants everyone to _think_ he is. I think he puts on that whole ‘inscrutable alien’ thing, just to keep everyone guessing.” Janet glanced over at Tony, and he was reminded that whatever impression _she_ gave, Janet was an insightful person. She always saw more than she let on. “You spend a lot of time with Loki as well,” she pointed out. “I’m sure you’ve noticed the same thing.”

He shrugged. “Well, yeah. I mean, it’s not like I can predict what he’d going to do or say a lot of the time. Not when it’s something important. But yeah, he’s definitely playing up a lot of the ‘unknowable alien god’ schtick.”

Janet nodded, her expression lightening. “Right! And if this were anyone else, anyone but a centuries old Asgardian acting like this, you know what I would think was up? I’d think that they were embarrassed.”

On Tony’s other side, Sam snorted. “Yeah, like I said. He’s sulking. For someone who’s ‘centuries old,’ he acts just like a four year old.”

Tony snickered, unable to keep from imagining a tiny four year old Loki, complete with green striped onesie and a little knitted cap with horns. If nothing else came out of this enforced double bestie time, he would have that image.

He wasn’t the only one struck with the image, as Janet’s lip trembled as she held back the laughter Tony felt no compunction to keep to himself. When the need to laugh passed she straightened, the very picture of a mature young woman putting up with a pair of fools. It probably would have been more effective if Tony didn’t know her. “Yes, but think about it. What is he embarrassed _about?_ Sure, it might make sense for most people to be caught in a scheme like that, but _Loki?_ We’ve seen him plan and plot and fail before – there’s hardly any difference. He just blusters, gives a speech and moves on. It’s just like… punctuation to him. Sooo… why is he embarrassed this time?”

Tony had to admit, the way Janet was putting it, it didn’t make sense.

“Well, what else _is_ there to be embarrassed about?” Sam asked, sounding frustrated. “If anyone in the whole debacle has reason to be embarrassed, it would be Tony, being the Mean Green’s Machine and all.”

He jogged Sam’s shoulder with his, making him fumble to keep his coffee from splashing everywhere. “Thanks a lot, featherbrain.”

“Hey, I’m not saying it’s a _good_ reason to be embarrassed. Just that you would have _more_ reason than Loki — but not really in this case. He didn’t even make you do anything weird while you were his puppet, you were just—“

_I’m sorry for this, Stark._

Tony froze, the conversation between Janet and Sam fading from his attention. There was no mistaking the voice which arrived in his skull. He glanced around surreptitiously, searching for any sign of the mage without actually _expecting_ to find him. Loki could send his thoughts across vast distances, there would be no need to stand within sight to be sure Tony could hear. None save perhaps just simply being able to _see_ him, but given Loki’s recent habits, he doubted the mage was missing the sight of him much.

There was no trace of Loki. Tony did his best to tramp down his disappointment and to bring his attention back to his friends, to people who actually wanted to spend time in his company. If Loki wanted to talk to him, he could do it to his face, rather than by magical brain voicemail.

Redirecting his attention was easier said than done, though. While he tried to focus on what Janet and Sam were saying he kept turning the words spoken in Loki’s voice over and over again. The more he poked at them, the less they felt like a telepathic message and more like a… memory. The more he thought about it, the more he could recall the tone of voice the words had been spoken in – strained, their volume hushed – and he thought he could almost picture Loki’s expression as he said them.

A memory. At least, possibly. A memory from that missing week, and it was… an apology? What sort of sense did that make? The brain control itself wasn’t likely to have Loki feeling guilty enough to apologize, let alone in such a strained tone of voice as Tony’s memory was insisting it had been. Which begged the question:

What had happened which had Loki feeling so guilty?

The options which immediately came to mind weren’t comforting, and took so much of Tony’s attention that he nearly missed when Janet decided to speak to him directly again.

“… him some more time, _without_ trying to jump all over him the minute you see him. Whatever’s bugging him, he’ll get over it. It looks like he’s already making some progress on that. According to Thor he’ll be back to himself eventually, you just need to let him be until _he’s_ ready.” She shrugged, the suggested method obviously sitting as poorly with her as it did with Tony. “And then just… don’t bring it up, I guess. Not until he does. ‘Let Loki take the lead’ is the general idea.”

Sam gave an ugly snort, but offered no comment.

Tony was inclined to agree with the sentiment. He could understand where Loki would want some space after… whatever had happened. A kind of cooling off period. He could understand, because he knew exactly what it actually was. It was a period to have everyone involved decide that it wasn’t all that important, and to drop it. It was a period to, in essence, wait out the collective short term memory regarding the incident and get to the point where no one would care enough to bring it up again. He wanted to skip over the whole fallout portion of the problem and get straight to the reconciliation portion.

Tony could understand that. He’d pulled similar moves in the past — though never to this extreme, he didn’t think. It was a lot easier to just get to the ‘we’re all good again’ phase and move on. Even from his own side, there was a temptation to just allow it to happen…

Except there was his curiosity to consider. He wanted– he _needed_ to know what had happened during those five days.

And that snippet of memory, _‘I’m sorry for this, Stark,’_ only made his curiosity worse. Not just for what had happened to him during that time, but what Loki might have gone through as well.

‘Let Loki take the lead.’ Normally Tony would respect that as well as he could. He valued the tentative and weird friendship he’d made with the Asgardian, understood that some special effort would be required to keep and maintain it, and was willing to put that effort in. He _liked_ Loki. He liked his intelligence, his odd and slightly abrasive sense of humor, his devil may care attitude and ‘fuck the police’ approach to problems. It all jived with Tony’s way of doing things, and he felt like, in an odd way, he and the Asgardian understood each other better than anyone else of their respective species had managed to do.

Loki wasn’t just a rare friend, he was practically impossible, and Tony wasn’t going to just let that go without a fight. Loki was worth some effort. _They_ were worth some effort.

But, by the same token, Tony had his stubborn streak. It was part and parcel to who he was, and if there was going to be compromise to make their relationship work, it was going to have to go both ways.

A week was enough cool down time, enough of Loki having the lead.

It was time to take the lead himself a little and see what could happen when he _pushed_.

—•—

Two weeks.

In the timeline of eons, it wasn’t even a blip. In the scheme of a few centuries, it still barely registered at all.

Two weeks. Fourteen days. Three hundred thirty-six hours. Twenty thousand one hundred sixty minutes… impressive enough numbers on their own, and yet when weighted against the measures of time Loki had already experienced, it was negligible at best. Nothing, or less than nothing compared to the millions, _billions_ of days which he had lived. What was fourteen against such numbers?

Yet it seemed, as always, it was less the time itself which weighed on him and more _what_ he experienced in that time. The time he lived was defined by him, not the other way around. By what he did and who he spent that time with.

Or what he did _not_ do, and the marked absence of a particular ‘who,’ as the current case was so eloquently proving.

For a mortal, Anthony Stark was proving to have far too much of a hold over him and his attention. Especially for a mortal he had known only for a few months. It was possible the single point upon which he had spent the most of those twenty thousand minutes considering: How in the name of the Norns had Anthony Edward Stark gotten a hold of so much of Loki’s attention in such a short a span of time?

The best conclusion he had managed to reach on the point was that it was the mortal’s brashness which first caught his notice – and which had gone a long way to holding it. Were he to consider the trait on its own merits, Loki would have scoffed at the idea of finding anything about ‘brashness’ intriguing. Thor was brash, and he was hardly intriguing. Much as he loved his brother – and may he be struck down before he ever admitted that aloud – _his_ brashness was an intolerable irritant, not a reason to give him even more attention.

It was different with Anthony.

Where Thor was overbearing and very nearly oblivious in his good natured enthusiasm – a little like a golden retriever, now that he thought about it – Anthony was… aware of the effect he had on other people. There was a knowing kind of sparkle in the mortal’s eye, even when he was being, arguably, just as abrasive as Thor. When he was making people exasperated with him, it was done knowingly, deliberately. At least much of the time it was deliberate. When it _was_ deliberate that spark in his eye would flare to life, and a grin would tug irrepressibly at his lips.

Perhaps it was inaccurate to say that it was Anthony’s brashness which both caught and kept his attention. It may have got him to look the mortal’s way, but it was that hint of _mischief_ which had arrested him. And once he paused to really examine the man, he kept finding more and more to keep him there, far beyond the point when he normally would have gotten bored and abandoned any other mortal.

Though even that wouldn’t have been enough on its own. What finally made his interest in Anthony irrepressible was the fact that the mortal seemed just as interested in _him_ , despite knowing his less than admirable traits.

Mutual interest. It was such a rarity that Loki couldn’t really fault himself for how fixated he became on the mortal.

He blamed Stark, instead. If the stupid mortal had shown even a glimmer of self-preservation, he would have taken himself as far away from Loki as possible, would have rejected any sort of interest Loki showed and stuck to fellow mortals for his companionship. But no, of course not. He had to show enthusiastic, reciprocal interest, and in so doing catch Loki up in an unintentional web.

It was why it was so hard to get his mind off of Anthony. It was why it was so hard to focus on his magic, to bend his thoughts to his spells and nothing else. He was Loki, Prince of Asgard and mage with centuries of experience and discipline … and yet this mortal man had succeeded in upending all of that, casting him adrift in uncertainty.

It was how the mistake had happened.

He’d been going through a spell – a relatively simple one to take control of a person’s will. ‘Brainwashing,’ though that actually flew in the face of what brainwashing actually was. His spell was more along the lines of the subjugation of will, of puppetry more than reprogramming — which was in all honesty much easier to accomplish. Too easy, perhaps. Easy enough for his mind to wander when he ought to have been concentrating. And of course his mind had wandered to Anthony, wondering vaguely when he would see the mortal again, if they might spend the evening together watching films or perhaps discussing their most recent projects…

And the spell, meant to be a simple dry run practice, was given a target. Loki’s undisciplined thought gave the spell an outlet, and it had rushed out and away before he realized it, before he could recall it—

And it had found its target.

Sequestered in his dorm, Loki rubbed at his eyes, the complex symbols and words in the book he was attempting to read all blurring and running together as though it had been left out in the rain. It seemed that concentration was _still_ an issue. And it was still Anthony’s fault.

What he couldn’t blame Anthony for was what had happened _after_ he’d been caught up in the rogue spell. For that, Loki could blame no one but himself, and by extension this two week purgatory was also his responsibility.

Loki leaned back in his chair. Several joints in his spine cracked at the change of position. He’d been sitting still far too long, trying to absorb the information in a dusty tome, and he couldn’t say it had been time well spent. He couldn’t even say with a great amount of confidence what the book was _about_ , let alone recall with any detail what was between its covers.

A great and powerful mage he was, indeed, if a single mortal could so crawl beneath his skin. What sort of Ruler of the Realms would he prove to be with this sort of affliction?

It was all Anthony’s fault. If Loki still possessed any sort of sense, he would find some way to be rid of the mortal entirely. Then his troubles would be solved.

A permanent loss of Anthony Stark struck him as repugnant, however. If two weeks had proven themselves so uncomfortable, how would the rest of eternity measure up?

He almost didn’t notice when the power blinked out.

Loki blinked, but there was no change. It was just as dark before. All of the lights had gone out in his dorm room, the hum of the computer in the corner gone quiet, even the dim sound of music from the floor below him was gone.

Loki sighed, and with a flick of his wrist called an orb of green flame to his palm. It wasn’t ideal, but it was better than sitting in the dark waiting for the mortals to sort out their delicate power systems. Internally he growled at his quote unquote ‘reliance’ on the mortals and their stunted advancements. With the history of the Academy, he knew he ought to check if this were a precursor to an attack, but it was just as likely to be a simple malfunction, and he was in no mood to jump at what was probably nothing.

Since he’d been losing focus on his reading in any case – or failed to have any focus on it at all – Loki closed the book in his lap and considered his options.

There weren’t as many as he would have liked.

The rules imposed by the Academy – and more to the point, by his father – limited him severely. Not that the rules themselves were much of a deterrent, they never were. But the Allfather and Heimdall had taken to the rather inconsiderate habit of watching him closely while he was at the Academy. It was, ironically enough, even harder to get away with mischief now that he was farther away from home than when he had been living under the same roof as his parents. Which was fine in that it offered him a bit more challenge – but it made deciding on what to do more of an endeavor.

Maybe he _would_ head outside to see if there was a reason why the power went out. Maybe they _were_ being attacked. At least that would provide an effective distraction from his meandering thoughts.

Loki paused just inside his own door, listening. Had there been some sort of sound on the other side, or had that just been his imagination…?

He startled when a knock sounded on his door. No one ever visited him in his _dorm room_. Anyone who ever actually sought him out did so when he was out in the open or by tracking him down between missions. But if the knock startled him, then the door just _swinging open_ shocked him.

Hadn’t he set a locking ward on that?

Even with all of the lights out, it wasn’t hard to tell who it was who was on the other side of the door. The partial suit he was wearing and the arc reactor in his chest illuminated Anthony perfectly well, including the absolutely cheeky grin he was wearing when he saw that Loki was standing on the other side of the door, like he’d been waiting for him.

“Hey there, Lokes.”

Loki’s heart gave a treacherous lurch. He’d been avoiding seeing Anthony for long enough that he’d gotten rusty at affecting disinterest when he was face to face with the man. 

He backed up a step without thinking. “Hello, Stark,” he replied, glad that his voice, at least, was steady. He gave what he hoped was a mocking sort of smile. “And goodbye.”

He twisted the magic around him, envisioning a place across the campus from the dorms, somewhere out of immediate sight where he could gather his energy and cast a better spell – invisibility, perhaps, or a bigger transportation spell layered with an obfuscation illusion, something to get him _off_ of campus but also throw off any of the gazes leveled his direction—

Nothing happened. The world did not melt around him and coalesce into something new. The magic he reached for didn’t respond to his touch – in fact it seemed to be _retreating_ from him.

What…?

“Problem there, Lokes?”

Loki looked up, eyes narrowing in suspicion. Anthony was grinning at him, the expression far too knowing, in his opinion. “What… _exactly_ have you done, Stark?”

The mortal’s face went through a brief contortion, as though he were attempting to look both innocent and completely pleased with himself at the same time. It wasn’t an uncommon expression on Anthony. He often tried to appear as though he hadn’t been the cause of whatever was happening at a given time, but at the same time he could never repress the need to take credit for how clever he was in pulling it off.

It was annoying how charming Loki found it.

“Oh, you know, nothing too much…” He held up one of his arms, the one with the Iron Man suit gauntlet. Loki was familiar enough with the armor that he could spot right away that there was something new embedded into it. Something in the back of the hand which glowed a poisonous green color and was very obviously _not_ electronic in nature, but rather…

“I got myself a portable magic nullifying field.”

Loki stared, first at the glowing gem in Anthony’s gauntlet, and then at his face. He was still smiling, immensely pleased with himself and the trick he’d pulled.

“How… in _Hel_ did you manage to put together a…?”

“Impressive, isn’t it? Are you impressed?” Anthony waved the hand, leaving traceries of green hanging in the air behind it. “I wish I could say that it was all me, but I had some help putting this little baby together. I had to promise Amora all sorts of favors in the future, so I hope you appreciate the lengths I’m going to just to talk to you.”

The picture started coming together, while at the same time making even less sense than before. “ _Amora?_ The Enchantress helped you put that thing together? It must have been some _very_ heavy favors you promised.”

Anthony winced. “Yeah, well. Thankfully I’m an amazing haggler. Plus, she either didn’t want to or _couldn’t_ make this thing run indefinitely, so that gave me quite a bit more leverage.”

Loki flicked his eyes to the gauntlet again. “I would imagine it to be a case of inability,” he said. “But even if she _could_ , she would not wish to, being a mage herself.” Just the idea of something which had a permanent effect of magical nullification anywhere within the grips of S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Academy… No, it didn’t bear thinking about.

“That’s what I figured. She didn’t seem particularly pleased to be making this much for me, frankly.” He paused, and Loki realized that Tony still hadn’t moved from his place just outside the door. He realized because Anthony abruptly looked sheepish, glancing round the doorframe and then back up at Loki. “So, uh. Can I come in?”

Loki wondered if Anthony would actually turn around and leave if he told him to. If he told the impossible mortal to just turn around and leave him alone, would he actually listen, or would he come in anyway? He’d gone to the trouble of figuring out a way of making sure that Loki couldn’t just teleport away immediately – even owed Amora some sort of ungodly favor or other as a result. It didn’t seem terribly likely that he would give up on talking to him after all of that, just because Loki asked him.

Then again, he _was_ still staying outside, waiting for Loki to answer…

They lived on the same campus, at least for the time being. They often went into battle together. It would only be a matter of time before he asked about this again, and again, and eventually Loki would tell him… It would probably be best to get this confrontation over with now. Two weeks was probably long enough to leave Anthony in the dark. Long enough of him hiding from the inevitable.

He stepped further back into the dorm, motioning for Anthony to follow. He turned his back on Anthony for a moment, and went through the motion of calling magical fire to his hand before he remembered. He’d not even noticed when the one he’d conjured before had gone out, so shaken he’d been at the sight of Anthony on his doorstep. With a sigh, he set about finding and lighting the oil lamp he had, using nothing more than matches. Despite having magic and access to electric lights, some habits and comforts of home were hard to give up. He liked working into the night sometimes with nothing but the warm, flickering light of a lamp to keep him company.

Once the flame was steady, he turned back to Anthony. He’d come into the dorm, closing the door quietly behind him, but hadn’t taken a seat. He stood, more or less in the middle of the room, looking around curiously. Loki supposed he would, since he had never been in Loki’s private rooms before, though there was little enough to see which would give any real indication that they were _Loki’s_ rooms as opposed to anyone else’s. There were no shelves stuffed full of spell ingredients or magical items laying around for him to get a peek at. Anything of that kind Loki kept carefully stored away in his pocket dimensions. The most of what Anthony would see which might get his attention were the rows of old books on his shelves, or items like the oil lamp which were uncommon on Earth, but hardly rare.

It wasn’t even as though there was all that much space for the character of a person inhabiting these rooms to show. For being a highly funded school for the training of future heroes, the Avengers Academy held to the traditional asceticism of schools in Midgard.

“Well, then,” Loki said, drawing Antony’s attention back to him. “I can guess why you’re here. So why don’t you get it over with and ask your questions? I will answer, and then we can set about the business of never seeing one another again.”

Anthony winced again, managing to look incredibly uncomfortable and awkward as he stood in Loki’s dorm. _Awkward_. While he stood there, in Loki’s rooms, half in his armor and sporting a magic nullifying artifact, he had the _gall_ to look awkward and try to garner sympathy.

Loki narrowed his eyes at him again. “You’re the one who turned out all the lights, aren’t you?”

If anything, Anthony looked even more abashed. “It got your attention, didn’t it?”

“And what… precisely was that point of that little stunt?”

“Well, you know…” Tony scratched at the back of his neck, his eyes tracking over anything the flickering light revealed. “It sort of drew attention away from the building itself and out to what might have caused the problem. And even if you weren’t very interested in figuring that part out, I thought it would work to distract you from what was going on with your magic. Or where I was.”

Loki snorted. Typical that Anthony would think that he kept constant track of where he was, that he would have to be distracted _away_ from that so that the mortal could make an unseen approach. How very vain of him.

“And anyway, that’s a very bleak way of looking at all of this,” Anthony continued, managing to look Loki in the eye. “It’s not like _I’m_ expecting to walk out of here and never see you again. I’ve gotten kind of fond of you, you jerk.”

Loki scowled at him, irritation beginning to stir. Good. Irritation and anger he could deal with. They were preferable to what other options there were. “ _You_ might not expect it, but your species has a tendency to be rather extreme in its expectations, either high or low. And what you _expect_ might have very little to do with what will _happen_ , Stark.”

“I wish you’d stop calling me that,” he muttered. “You’d stopped calling me ‘Stark’ ages ago. True, ‘Anthony’ was still giving me some problems, but going back to Stark is worse.”

“There’s a good example of expectations versus reality. One can’t always get what one wants.”

“And maybe reality might surprise you,” Anthony snapped back, at last showing some sign that his own temper was fraying. In a way it was a relief. “You ever think of that, clever mage?”

“Often. But I find that when reality deigns to surprise, it is very rarely a _pleasant_ one.”

“Well, _someone_ has been going without their coffee, lately.”

“ _Stark._ ” Loki glared at him, his patience running out entirely. Annoyance and irritation would only go so far, after all. He wanted this interview over and done with as quickly as possible, and Anthony gone, so that he could finally deal with the reality of never seeing him again on friendly terms. “Please get to the point of your visit. I already said I would answer your questions, but that comes with the implicit expectation that you _ask them_.”

The frown didn’t leave Anthony’s face, but it did lighten slightly as he looked at Loki, apparently gathering himself and arranging his questions. While Loki braced himself, preemptively preparing his answers, he looked over Anthony’s face, committing it to memory. If this was going to be the last time he saw him in even vaguely friendly circumstances, then he might as well have _this_ version of Anthony be one that he looked back on. And even if there was a frown, there was still something to treasure there. His face, set in a determined expression, eyes steely and set on their goal, half shadowed and half revealed in the light of flame…

There were worse ways to remember a friend in the moment right before one lost them.

“Alright.” Anthony blew out a breath. “You say you know what I’m going to ask, so I won’t beat around the bush about it. Why have you been avoiding me?”

It was as though he’d been walking down a set of stairs, and where he’d expected to find another step, he’d run into the floor.

“Why have I…? Are you a _complete_ imbecile, Stark? I would have thought that _that_ at least was entirely obvious. Or has your brain been so addled that you can’t remember _anything_ , and have no concept of what you _ought_ to be feeling?”

The man snorted, and actually looked a little pleased with himself. Enough so that Loki wondered if he’d stepped into a trap.

“Oh, sure. I know that the reason you _tell_ yourself you’re avoiding me is because of whatever happened while I was under your control. That’s clear enough. But I seriously, _seriously_ doubt that anything really bad happened during that time.” He shrugged. “It just doesn’t scan, y’know? I could get into all of the reasons why I think that’s not likely, but you’d just derail the conversation by trying to tear them all down, so I’m not gonna. No, what I _really_ want to know is why you _think_ I would have a bad reaction to whatever _did_ happen.” He tilted his head, his expression softening slightly as his eyes fixed on him, and Loki froze under the weight of the stare.

“I mean… we’re friends, or close enough. _I_ think that we’re friends, and I’m pretty sure that’s how you thought of me as well. So… why do you think that I would freak out on you? Is there something I’ve done which would make you think like that?”

He’d been right. When the Norns presented surprises, they were grotesque in their tastes.

“You make a lot of presumptions,” he commented, picking at some invisible lint on his pants. “Not only in what sort of relationship we had, but in how _I_ perceived it, what happened in the time that you can’t remember, and how it all came about.”

“I don’t think I am, actually,” Anthony countered quickly. “I don’t think I’m wrong in the sort of relationship that we have – that we’re friends, no matter how much you might like to pretend that you’re a big bad villain. I’m only making a vague presumption about the lost time, none at all about _how_ all of this happened, and as for how _you_ think of us… I don’t think I’m far off.”

“And that is part of what makes you a fool,” Loki snarled.

“And part of what makes _you_ a fool is that you insist on keeping everything to yourself! If you would just _talk_ to me! Do you know how much trouble you’d be sparing us both?”

“And since when has it been in my nature to spare trouble?”

“ _Lokes_.” Anthony sighed, and pinched the bridge of his nose. Good. Loki rather hoped that he was giving the man a headache. It would serve him right for being constantly on his mind for the last fortnight.

“C’mon. You told everyone that what happened was a mishap. Okay. Fine. Tell me about that, then. Is that why you think I’m going to be mad, because of the _sort_ of mishap it was?”

It really was only going to be a matter of time before he figured it out for himself somehow, or came to a conclusion so near to the truth that it made no practical difference. The man was frustratingly clever when he wanted to be, as well as stubborn as a mule. Of course, he could also be painfully oblivious to anything which related directly to himself, so there was a chance that Loki could remain silent indefinitely and nothing at all would come of it.

Nothing save the continuation of where they were now. Estranged, awkward, angry… silence would result in much the same as what Loki feared would be the result in telling Anthony the truth, only with the added detail of Anthony remaining the dark. Resentment would stand in the place of hatred in separating them, in driving Anthony away from his side.

It would either be knowledge or ignorance which convinced Anthony to abandon him. It was only a question of which Loki would prefer in the end.

And while the idea of admitting to any of what had happened aloud twisted his guts and had kept him in hiding for weeks, the idea of Anthony continuing to pursue him in search of answers for who knew how long before he finally gave up… that was worse.

“It wasn’t a mishap in the way you are perhaps thinking it was,” he said slowly. “It wasn’t a case of attempting one kind of spell and getting another. Nor was it a case of a spell failing to hit its proper target and finding _you_ instead.”

Anthony looked surprised that Loki had finally answered him. He relaxed slightly in his posture, subtly shifting from a combative stance to one which was more receptive. “What sort of mishap was it, then?”

Loki swallowed a snarl. “One of focus. The spell was – or was _meant to be_ \- a simple practice run. Not complex, not difficult, and with no intended target. It required, on its own, very _little_ focus. And because of that, mine wandered. With nothing to preoccupy my thoughts, they shifted in whatever direction they wished to go on their own. That was the mistake. Even that much attention given one way or another was enough to give the spell a target. A passing thought, and the spell was given an avenue to follow, and before I could recall my thoughts or the spell, it was gone.”

Anthony shrugged, looking unimpressed. “Okay, so you let your mind wander a bit while you were practicing. I do that all the time, it’s not _that_ big a deal. If it had been a spell which _melted_ my brain instead of just taking it for a bit of a walk, then I would be more upset—well, except for the fact that I would have a melted brain. Not much chance of feeling upset, then.”

Loki wasn’t sure whether he ought to be grateful or frustrated that Anthony seemed to be just as oblivious as he had thought the man would be. It didn’t seem to occur to him to wonder why Loki had been thinking of him while he was practicing his magic. Perhaps he didn’t think it was that strange. Or perhaps he was vain enough to assume that people were just thinking about him all the time.

“Yes. My mind wandered. And the spell followed, all the way to you.”

Anthony blinked. His mouth opened, closed again, and he gave another blink. “Oh,” was what he eventually managed to say in response.

It took a physical effort to _not_ roll his eyes. And this man was considered a genius prodigy.

“Well… I mean, that’s still not much of a reason why you would think I would be mad about it. It’s not like you were _deliberately_ trying to put a control spell on me. No matter what kind of mistake it was, it was still a mistake, right?”

Loki was tempted to think that the man was being oblivious, even now. That somehow he was missing the significance that Loki had been distracted from his concentration of thinking of his magic by thoughts of _him_. He might have thought that, save for the fact that there was a blush creeping up from his collar and working its way across his cheeks. He understood, but was choosing to ignore it for now.

With the way his gut twisted at Anthony’s blush, at the realization that he _knew_ … Loki was almost grateful that soon the man would hate him.

“That much was a mistake, yes,” he admitted, and turned his eyes away from Anthony, choosing instead to look off into the shadows. Not so much because he couldn’t stand to look at Anthony, but because he hated the idea of Anthony looking and seeing too much of what was happening within _him_. “One which I realized almost the moment it happened. Spells being given license and life of their own isn’t something which is wise to just let happen, or to continue once they _do_ happen. I tracked it down quickly, found you and ascertained what exactly had happened, how affected you were. Thankfully the fact that the spell hadn’t been tailor made to suit you from the beginning, but which had only been thrust in your direction by accident, didn’t seem to have done you any damage. It had worked exactly as intended… and I knew exactly how to reverse it.”

He paused, and while he didn’t turn back to see Anthony’s reaction, he watched out of the corner of his eye. He watched as Anthony grew still, his expression going blank as he absorbed that and all of the implications.

“You… There was nothing wrong with the spell when it hit me?”

“No.”

“And you knew exactly how to reverse it? Could take it off of me right away?”

“Yes.”

“And you didn’t?”

_“No.”_

“… Okay, I think I might be seeing where your concern was coming from, now.”

The smile which came to Loki’s lips was so bitter he could practically taste it. “Yes, I rather thought that you might.”

Loki waited for Anthony to say something – anything. He also tried to think of something to say, himself. There was a lot which he _could_ have said, and probably _should_ have said. So many things which he ought to have been saying over the course of the last couple weeks, explaining what had happened and filling in the days which Anthony had lost. But he found that when faced with the opportunity to do just that, he was stricken just as silent as he had been over the course of a fortnight. His voice would not work, the words would not come. He sat down in his desk chair, and waited.

When Anthony cleared his throat, Loki flinched, and waited for the expected reaming.

“Alright, well… that’s a little unexpected, I guess, but still not as bad as I think _you_ think it is. I already said once that I don’t care about any sort of freaky nonsense which you might have gotten up to while I was out of it, didn’t I?”

It got Loki to look up at him, brow raised. It was a little hard to tell in the dim light, but Anthony’s expression looked less confident than it had before. It was obvious that he was attempting to give the same impression of flippant cockiness as before. He was trying to give the same sense as he had on the day when Loki’s spell had been broken, when he’d been leaning over Loki’s clone on the Quad and telling him he wasn’t really mad, but curious.

He was trying… but there was doubt in there, now. Uncertainty that the time he couldn’t remember was as harmlessly spent as he’d originally thought, and the idea disturbed him.

For a moment, Loki considered the idea of just allowing him to think the worse of him. For Anthony to take whatever worst case scenario he had brewing in his head as the truth, and allow that to be the way their friendship crumbled. It would have the advantage of keeping the truth and Loki’s secret safe, while still achieving the same end as if he _had_ told the truth.

But then, the idea that Anthony would walk away believing that he had done… anything like along the lines which were playing out behind his eyes was almost physically painful.

“You certainly did, and more the fool you for that.” He gave a slight smile before looking away again, not bothering to see if Anthony returned his smile, or if he relaxed at all. “But that, at least, I can assure you did not happen. No, the lost time was filled with… nothing much to speak of, really. Any time which you were not required to act as normally as possible around your friends to keep them from knowing what had happened, you were in my company. And… that is all.”

The silence this time was so weighted Loki’s spine wanted to bow under it.

“Wait. You mean that you had me as a mind-controlled puppet for five whole days, and in that time you did nothing with me other than try to make it look like I was acting normally? No mischievous plots, not pranks to pull and make it look like I did them all?”

“Well, had I been _planning_ to make you my puppet, I might have taken better advantage of the opportunity. But that is not how the situation played out, so that is not what I did.”

“And when I wasn’t being used as my own beard… what? You trotted me back home and we just hung out on the couch? You hung out with brain-vacant me for five days?”

Loki bit at his lips, shame and embarrassment warring for which would be the most prominent. As humiliating as it was to admit to what Anthony was saying… that _was_ what had happened during those five days, more or less. There had been some very, _very_ basic communication, all that was possible while Anthony had been under the influence of the spell, but for the most part, what Anthony said was the truth. And it was pathetic.

“Yes,” he said to the shadows, speaking so quietly he knew that Anthony was going to have to lean closer to him to make out what he was saying. “Yes, I did. Because as little as it was, it was still _something_. It was having you to myself, away from all the others, and even if it wasn’t your _attention_ which I had, it… it was still more than what I had before.”

Pathetic. He was completely pathetic, and he knew it. First for wishing for a mortal’s attention so much that he would fixate upon it so completely, and secondly for being so willing to take it in _whatever_ form he could – even if the _attention_ wasn’t technically there at all.

Pathetic, and completely deserving of the disgust and hatred he knew was coming, and nothing else.

He waited for the inevitable reaction, for the anger and the rejection. It might not have been much on the face of things, but he had still been taking advantage of Anthony when he’d been vulnerable. He’d taken over his mind and bent his body to his will, effectively kidnapping him for days just to keep himself company. Even with nothing else to hold against him, that should be enough to have Anthony reevaluating any sort of friendship he wanted to have with him. What sort of friendship _could_ they have, if Loki would so violate his trust at the first opportunity, even if the effect was minor? What guarantee was there that something like this wouldn’t happen again? What guarantee was there that the next time might not be worse?

He heard Anthony’s come closer, but didn’t look up. Nor did he look up or move away when the man stopped right in front of him. He waited for whatever it was Anthony was going to do, accepting it as what he deserved—

And got nothing more than a light chuff over the head.

“Ow,” he said, completely out of surprise. When he looked up, Anthony’s face was cast even more in shadow than before, with the oil lamp at his back. There was still just enough light for Loki to tell that his expression was exasperated, but… amused? The beginnings of a smile were attempting to pull the corners of his mouth up.

“You’re kind of an idiot, you know that? It’s a good thing you’re cute.”

Loki blinked, rubbing at the spot on his head where he’d been struck. “What…?”

There was definitely a smile on his face now, but Loki still didn’t understand it. “I’m saying that you’re an idiot because you are. Not because of the whole spell going haywire thing, either. I mean you’re kind of an idiot because, one, you didn’t have to hide from me for two weeks about something like _that_ , if that’s all you’ve been worried about. And two, if you’d been wanting to spend more time with me – even private time – _all you had to do was ask.”_

It felt like all Loki could do was blink at Anthony. This wasn’t right, surely? There was no way even Anthony could be this understanding about the loss of his autonomy, of his _self_ all because Loki had no self-control. There was no way that he could be this forgiving… And as for that other…

“Ask…?”

The smile on Anthony’s face went a little bit softer as he looked down on him. “Yes, fool, _ask_. Not all of us are mind readers, y’know. If you wanted to have some more just you-and-me time, then you should have said so. I would have said yes. I would have been _happy_ to say yes.”

At the same time as his heart began to flutter with the unexpected possibilities, at the imagined impossibilities Anthony seemed to be offering up on a platter, those impossible hopes crashed back down immediately, back to a level he was familiar with and could better understand. “Ah,” he nodded. “’ _Would have been_.’”

Anthony snorted, and Loki felt a little more of his heart try to break. “Well, yeah, ‘would have.’ I think we’ve moved a little bit beyond all of that, don’t you?”

Loki nodded. “Yes. I rather suppose we are.”

“Damn right we are.”

Loki expected Anthony to leave, then, or to cuff him again before he left. It was the right timing for him to do either, and either action would be understandable. But it seemed as though the mortal was bent entirely to the task of subverting his expectations.

Instead of leaving, or striking him, Anthony bent his knees, squatting down until he was on a level with Loki and staring him eye to startled eye. With the hand not encased in a gauntlet, he reached out and, tentatively, stroked his cheek.

For a moment, Loki forgot how to breathe.

“We’re a little bit past _you_ asking _me_ out, fool. Because you’re obviously crap at that sort of thing, it’s going to be up to _me_ to ask _you_ out on a date.”

And perhaps Loki didn’t need air at all, since he was so obviously caught in a fever dream.

“A… I don’t understand.”

“Like I said, kind of an idiot.” Anthony grinned at him, and leaned forward so that it felt as though Loki’s heart would follow his lungs in stopping completely. “And it’s a good thing you’re cute.”

For a moment Loki wondered if somehow he’d once gain taken hold of Anthony’s mind, but this time the effect was much, much subtler than it had been before, so that even _he_ wasn’t aware of the effect he was having on the mortal, and Anthony was just acting out Loki’s wants without direct instruction. Because it seemed impossible that Anthony would be forgiving him, that he would be asking Loki out of a date…

That he would be leaning forward and pressing a kiss to his lips.

Impossible, and yet… it was happening.

When he recovered enough of his wits to tentatively return the kiss, he felt Anthony smile.

After this, there would be no getting the mortal off his mind at all.

And Loki found that he didn’t mind that nearly so much as he thought he would.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading, everyone!
> 
> You can find me on  
> Tumblr: [@ehtarwrites](http://ehtarwrites.tumblr.com/)  
> Twitter: [@ehtarwrites](https://twitter.com/ehtarwrites)  
> Discord: @ehtarwrites#4962 
> 
> If anyone wants to come say hi or chat about nerdy things, hmu! ♥


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